Operation: Haircut
by Israe
Summary: Willy Wonka needs a haircut. At least, Charlie thinks so. [based exclusively on the new movie, one shot] Rating for safety [ONESHOT]


**Well, once again I wrote something on a whim. Sorry if there are errors, I proofread but then it froze on me when I tried to save it and I don't want to proofread it again. I'm not sure if it saved my proofreading.**

**PS: this isn't meant to be slash. I am not by any means a slash writer. It only comes out that way. I blame my gay friends. **

"I do _not_ need a new haircut! My hair right now works perfectly fine, and is quite becoming if I do say so myself." Willy Wonka held a hand up to his perfectly trimmed bob and fluffed it a bit.

Charlie was in a bit of a dilemma. On one hand, Willy was completely used to and loving his current hairstyle. On the other…it was horrible. But he couldn't tell Willy that. How ungrateful would that be to insult the man that had taken him and his family in and was passing along a life's work to him?

Very. That was how much. Besides, Charlie was much too polite to be so…blunt with his mentor. But one thing was true: the cut _had_ to go.

Charlie himself had just gotten a haircut a few weeks earlier based off of something he'd seen in a men's clothing catalogue, and ever since he'd gotten much more attention. He really felt more comfortable and loved the looks he got from the girls across the classroom. He wanted to help Willy out, and to tell the truth ever since he'd started looking at the models in catalogues and magazines he'd become a bit of a fashion critic, even going so far as to tell his mother she should pick another color of apron. He'd received a slap on the back of the head for that one from his father.

And so Charlie's quest began. He began picking out magazines from newsstands as he passed, purchasing articles from grocery stores on his way home from school, even making copies of pictures from the stash in the school library. He leafed through teen magazines looking for pictures of men's hairstyles that he thought would fit Willy, even ones he was doubtful of. A week later he had a stack of papers a few inches high with pictures of hairstyles ranging from the long and girlish to the ultra-short.

Now the only question was how would he show these to Willy?

His opportunity came on a lazy Sunday afternoon. A new brand of Scrumdelicious Chocolate Bars had just been sent out for the first time, and for once the inventing room was calm and unoccupied. Willy Wonka sat in his office at his desk staring forward at a bulletin board covered in photos and news clippings, his left foot tapping a bit against the inside of the desk. He jumped when a light knocking was heard from the other side of the door.

"Come in, Charlie!" he called, knowing Charlie would be the only one knocking on his door on his afternoon off. The gold-plated knob turned and Charlie stepped in, a stack of paper held tight under his left arm, quivering a bit in the sudden breeze. He pulled them out, shuffling them nervously as he made his way over to Willy's desk.

"So…" Charlie started, then bit his lip, unsure of how to continue.

"Yes?" Willy prompted, a smile playing on his slightly wide mouth.

"I brought you some pictures for your new haircut," Charlie rushed. Willy shook his head and giggled.

"I thought I told you I don't need one, silly. I mean, look at me, I'm quite handsome already, don't you think?" He batted his eyelashes and pouted in a falsely feminine matter, resting his chin on his right hand. Charlie quirked an eyebrow and resisted the temptation to smirk. He never had understood Willy's inclination to act this way.

"Lovely," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Then his tone changed ."But change is good, right? Besides, I've found some great ideas." He flipped through the stack and pulled out a picture of a green-clad boy leaning against a fencepost, hair gracefully falling just short of his eyes in a windswept way and curling around his face.

Willy eyed the picture almost nervously, his gloves squeaking as he rubbed his thumb and ring finger together agitatedly. "I don't think short is my thing, Charlie. Really. I mean, don't you think his neck gets really cold? I mean, it's so drafty in the factory, I don't want to_ freeze_."

Charlie sighed and shook his head, this time pulling out a picture of a young man with slightly longer hair, about Willy's length but messier and without bangs. Willy looked at the picture distastefully. "It's so messy, how can he stand it. Nothing's in place and it's flying absolutely everywhere."

"That's kind of the danger of long hair," Charlie pointed out exasperatedly.

"Of course not, look at mine!" Willy grinned, running a finger through his perfectly positioned hair, picking up a strand and letting it fall right back into place.

Charlie made a noise of assent and continued flipping through the now-bent corners of his pile, pulling out a picture of a boy with bangs covering one of his heavily made-up eyes. Willy stared at the picture.

"What's wrong with him?"

Charlie was now frantically leafing through his load of paper and yanked out a picture, ripping it slightly in the process. It displayed a man with a fringe of slightly over-long bangs off to the side and layered hair that tapered down to nothing at the nape of his neck. His soulful eyes were fixed on the camera and his shirt was ruffled as if there was an invisible breeze blowing through the shot. Charlie gave the picture a hard look before carefully pulling it completely out of the stack and holding it up. Willy quietly studied it for a moment.

"Well…I don't know. What do you think."

"I think it's definitely your style."

Willy drummed his gloved fingers on the desk, his mouth pursed to one side.

"It'd take some growing out, of course," Charlie added.

"Well…" Willy hesitated again. "Okay. Looks good."

Charlie smiled. "I'm glad you think so. It's one of my favorites. And it'll really fit you, you have a very unique shape," he said, referring to Willy's thing face and large eyes, which widened slightly more at that moment.

"Are you calling me fat?"

**Alrighty then, that was exceptionally pointless. Sorry about the ending, but I didn't feel like going on to describe the hair cutting process, maybe I will if I ever want to. I'm thinking of drawing the boy described in the final approved picture, but it really depends on if my drawing skill is up to par.**


End file.
